


It's about time

by casbean



Category: Supernatural
Genre: After the Fall, M/M, NSFW, S9 CODA, blowjob, shower blowjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1968516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/casbean/pseuds/casbean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas got injured while trying to hunt on his own, and Dean finds a way to show Cas how important and amazing he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's about time

**Author's Note:**

> It's a very old one that I've edited a bit but I'm tired of having it around in my drafts so here it is alea jacta est or whatever.

Castiel has been chocking back tears all the way back to the motel. Dean knows it, he can see how Cas keeps his face turned toward the window, but he obviously forgot that Dean can see him in the rearview mirror. The angel’s scrapped and slightly bloody hands are tightly pressed in his thighs, cramped into angry fists. His jaw is tightened in a way Dean knows too well, because he knows Cas and also because he has exactly the same expression when he’s so angry he wants to cry. He can see the cuts on Castiel’s skin where the werewolf scratched him, almost tearing away half his face, just before Dean kicked down the door to come to his rescue.

 

 And now Dean regrets yelling at Cas but he couldn’t help it, he was so mad. So mad because Cas went behind his back to try to find the werewolf they were hunting together by himself while Dean was asleep. Mad because the hunter almost lost his mind when he found the bed next to his completely empty in the middle of the night, and Cas not anywhere in the motel room. And mad because if he had taken two more minutes to find out where Cas had gone he would’ve been too late, and that fucking werewolf would've ripped Castiel’s face off. And most of all it would have eaten his heart - his precious, fragile, newly human heart. Dean was so furious he almost went John Winchester on Cas, only calming down when he was sure Cas wasn't too seriously injured.

 Dean raged at how irresponsible, stupid, and reckless Cas had been, at what the fuck had gone through his stupid little brain and how he could never, ever do that again. Cas didn’t say anything, first being still under the shock of almost dying, dying for real, and then just letting Dean drag him back to the car where he sat without a word, staring out the window as Dean silently drove through the dark and empty streets.

 Now Dean is really trying to think of something to say – he’s almost about to apologize, although he wasn’t the completely idiotic one here – but he’s barely parked the car that Cas is storming out of it, slamming the door and disappearing into the motel. Dean takes his time to extract his own sore body from the Impala, giving Cas a moment to get himself together before facing him. But when Dean finally enters the room the former angel has locked himself in the bathroom, where he's making a racket - Dean can hear him throwing things against the wall and cursing in what must be Enochian.

“Cas” he calls out, one hand on the door handle. “Cas, open the door. You’ve got to let me take care of those cuts. Come on Cas, they’re nasty and you’re not Wolverine anymore.”

 The noises brutally stop, and all Dean can hear now is Castiel's heavy breathing. Not even an “I don’t understand that reference” which was what he was hoping for. Dean’s heart pinches. It’s surprisingly painful to see Cas like this, and to feel so helpless about it. He knows the fallen angel has been having a hard time since Metatron closed Heaven and cast the angels out, he knows how unsettling the human condition is for him, but Dean has never seen him completely lose control yet – or do anything nearly as stupid as what he did tonight.

 “Cas, let me in” Dean breathes out again against the frame. 

 At last the handle clicks and the door creaks open, revealing a defeated man leaning against the bathroom counter, turning his back to Dean and his head bent down with shame. Trembles are running up his arms and the wounds on his hands and arms look awful. Dean feels a urgent need to clean them up.

 “I can’t do anything.”

 Castiel sounds so broken, so desperate that Dean feels his chess tightening, a narrow pain twisting his stomach. He doesn’t know what to do. He feels like he should put his hands on his friend’s shoulders, hug him, do something, but at the same time he doesn’t dare touch him. He looks so fragile.

 “Cas…”

 “I am even more useless now than I was as an angel, Dean. I can’t… I can’t do anything.”

 “So that's why you went out alone tonight? To try to prove you can still do stuff?”

 Instead of answering Cas throws his already bloody hand into the mirror, a cry of pain escaping him as his hands bashes on the broken glass. Dean reacts immediately, strongly grabbing him by the arms and pulling him away. Castiel fights his grip, his face distorted in pain.

 “Cas, stop!”

 Dean clenches his arms around Cas harder until he’s literally crushing the angel against his chest, arms wrapping him in a tight embrace to keep him from making any more violent move. He can feel Cas' heart beating erratically against his chest, can hear his sobbing breaths and Dean unconsciously leans into him, breathing against Cas' temples.

Castiel’s muscles start to relax in the firm embrace and his breathing slow down, but he’s not hugging back. Still holding him close Dean examines Cas' bleeding hand - luckily it’s just a few more cuts and no glass got into the wounds. 

 “Why did you even bring me with you?” Cas mumbles, voice stifled into Dean's shirt. “I’m… broken, I’m useless, I have no powers. You don’t… you don’t need me anymore.”

 “Cas…”

 Dean sighs, squeezing the angel one last time before pulling back. The sorrow staining the dark blue eyes is heartbreaking.

 “Is that really what you think? That you’re just worth your freaking powers?”

 Cas plants his eyes directly into Dean's, pulling the stubborn face that the hunter knows too well. When Castiel speaks his tone is ice cold.

 “Why else would you need a toddler in a trench coat who does incredibly stupidthings with his tiny, tiny brain?”

 Fuck. Dean always forgets how his word seem to imprint in the angel's mind, like he's the freaking messiah. He sighs, realizing how hard he’s been on Cas lately. And also how obtuse the angel can be, not seeing what’s right in front of him. And now Dean can't see any way out except be clear, for freaking once, about how he feels. It's time.

The hunter's heart begins to race as he slides a trembling hand on Cas' face, forcing their eyes to meet. They have been touching each other a lot more since Cas fell, mostly because Dean and Sam had to help him with some basic human tasks (and there was the time Cas got the stomach flu, but they don’t talk about that). But this is an all new level, standing here in this tiny bathroom with Dean’s hand delicately cupping Castiel's face… The dark blue eyes are so full of loss that Dean quivers. He brushes his thumb on the scruffy cheeks the angel just won't shave, his heartbeat going through the roof.

 “I need you, Cas.”

 Dean’s voice almost breaks as he’s saying the words, but he desperately needs Cas to understand. Understand how precious he is, human or not.

 “You’re still you, you’re still… Cas.”

 He keeps keeps caressing the angel's face as he’s talking, stepping even closer, looking at him like Castiel is a work of art - which he is to Dean. He always was. And he wants Cas to know. To know why he needs him. Dean leans forwards until his lips are brushing on Cas' nose, on his cheeks and his lips, their heavy breaths melting together. The angel doesn’t pull back.

 “I need you with me, Cas.”

 Dean needs to show him - and hope, hope Cas will understand and feel the same.

 At last Dean presses a warm, feverish kiss on his friend’s lips. And it would seem like Cas is frozen, cold mouth unresponsive against Dean's lips, except the man feels two hands moving between their bodies, fingers clumsily gripping on his shirt and forcing their two racing heartbeats to crash together. It’s only when Dean finally takes a deep breath and pulls their lips apart for a second, that Castiel seems to react more. He opens his mouth and gasps for air, a small sound of despair escaping his throat. Dean can't help but but smile in relief. Thank God. 

The hunter feels Castiel’s fist tugging impatiently on his shirt and he leans into him again. Dean's other hand joins the first to hold the angel’s face up better, putting all his focus on those beautiful lips. Another small moan escapes Cas when their mouths meet again, and this time he tries to respond, grabbing on with his teeth, roughly sucking on Dean’s lower lip. There is something adorable in this clumsy yet eager kiss. Dean lets his tongue run on the open mouth as Cas catches his breath, because he still hasn’t mastered the whole “kissing and breathing at the same time” thing. And then, finally, a small smile spreads on Castiel’s face, and Dean places kisses on every inch of skin he can reach.

Dean fights the urge to grin like a kid on Halloween. Something so big has been lifted up his chest, and miraculously Cas responded the way he wished, and he never thought he could feel this happy in a dirty motel bathroom with his arms wrapped around a bloody ex-angel. Bloody ex-angel who is finally hugging him back.

 “We need to wash you up, now, and take care of those cuts” Dean whispers after a few minutes.

 He kisses Cas on the lips again, trying to ignore how swollen and warm his own heart feels. He’s about to pull away when he feels the scrapped hands sliding up under his shirt and he realizes Castiel does not have any intention of getting into the shower alone. Their clothes hit the floor after one another between sloppy, messy kisses. Cas is really getting into the whole tongue thing now, and he’s well decided to taste every little bit of Dean’s mouth while at it. And Dean is almost forgetting who he’s getting naked with, because it doesn’t even matter.

 He guides Cas to the shower, abandoning his lips again in the process. They are getting more and more delicious with every bite, maybe because it’s been so long since Dean’s wanted them.

As usual they're in a crappy motel and it takes Dean a while to adjust the water temperature. When he finally turns around again, Cas is contemplating his feet, his wet hair completely covering his eyes. It's one of the most adorable things Dean has ever laid his eyes on.

 The man moves closer to the angel again and slides a hand under his jaw to lift it before brushing the wet hair off his forehead. Dean can’t help but grin because of how cute Castiel looks with his hair sticking out like that. And then he takes Cas’ hands and gently pulls him forward, until they’re right under the shower head, letting the water runs down and clean the cuts on the angel’s arms and hands. Cas cringes but doesn’t make a sound despite the painful burn of the hot water on his open wounds. Dean presses soft caresses on his back, until Cas turns to him again, his eyes dark and cloudy.

“I’m scared” he simply says. 

Dean doesn’t ask what he’s scared of. Everything, probably. Humanity, fallen angels, Metatron, the future,  _this_ , life, death… Dean wraps his arms around the cold and shivering body and holds tight, pressing every inch of Cas’ wet skin against his own. He feels Cas’ fingers gripping to his shoulder, his face pressing into his neck, his heartbeat barely slowing down against Dean’s deep, calming breathes. 

 God knows how long they stay there, so intimately tangled. Dean draws little circles with his fingers on the warming skin, breathing in Castiel’s scent, tasting his skin with delicate kisses and enjoying, despite the distress of his friend, this moment of pure intimacy he has wanted for so long. And Cas slowly warms up, muscles relaxing, and soon he’s the one murmuring against Dean’s skin, something he’s never really admitted before, maybe out of guilt, maybe out of pride.

 “Dean, I don’t want to go back to Heaven. I want… I want to stay on Earth. With you.”

 Dean tightens his grip around him, pressing the angel so hard he’s probably stifling him, but he’s waited to hear that for so, so long.

 “We’ll find a way, Cas, I promise, all right? I… I love you.”

 The words escape him before he can stop it, spilling out of his heart directly into Castiel’s ear, and Dean can feel Cas’ heart stop beating for a second. He holds his breath, cursing everything he knows, until teeth are digging into his lips again, hands desperately grasping to his body. Any chastity in their embrace is gone and the kiss is everything sensual and passionate. Dean can feel a hard sensation growing against his, can feel Castiel’s hands massaging the muscles of his back, needy hips pushing hard against his own, lips, tongue and teeth constantly asking for more. Dean slides one hand behind Castiel’s head, gripping his hair, keeping him close and giving him all the access to bite and suck on those full, eager lips.

 “Dean” Castiel whines between two kisses “Dean say it again.”

 “I love you, Cas. I freaking love you.”

 The words suddenly feel so, so good to say. Dean barely remembers the last time he’s said them, but he can think of a million times he’s felt it, for so many people around him. He always had so much love to give, and for Cas, for Cas it’s that “true love” cheesy meaning, like the one in the movies that Dean always pretends to hate. He loves him, he’s loved him for a long time, and fuck, his inability to say it has been bulking up this insanity in his mind, and now it feels so so so good to say, it’s like he’s pierced the pus bubble and it’s spilling out like an orgasm. Cas I love you, I love you, I fucking love you, Cas, I love you so much… And Dean keeps saying it as he grabs Castiel’s face and kisses every little bit of it, I love you, his nose, his cheeks, his eyes, I love you, his jaw, his ears, his lips, I love you, his neck, his shoulders, his collarbones, I love you.

 And Dean feels the fire in his lower stomach growing more and more needy, and suddenly he hears Castiel make that sound, that incredible sound of pure contentment he’s never made before. The hunter slides one hand down and gently presses his thumb around Cas’ nipple, until the fallen angel is making that sound again, that beautiful whine of agonizing pleasure. And now Dean knows what he wants, what he  _really_  wants. He wants to know just how far this can go, and how many more sounds like that he can extract out of Cas. He wants to make him feel so good he forgets all about this awful night and this awful life. So good he forgets where he is and who he is, and nothing else matters.

 “I love you” Dean keeps mumbling as he drops to his knees, pressing his mouth on Castiel’s stomach, licking water drops out of his bellybutton, and rubbing the angel’s erection against his neck.

 “I love you” he murmurs, fingers brushing on the hard dick, thumb pressing on the head, and the delicate touch makes Cas whimper above him.

 “I love you” Dean says as he guides Castiel’s hands to grab on his shoulders and head, letting his tongue slide under the length, all the way up to the slit, finishing by delicately licking the drop of precome leaking out.

 “I love you” he chants as he wraps his fist around Castiel’s cock, gently sliding the foreskin up and down the head, enjoying the moans and the hands firmly gripping on his skin.

 “I love you” Dean says one last time before engulfing Cas, tongue curling around the soft end, sliding the foreskin down one last time. His lips tightly wrap around the shaft as he hollows his cheeks, sucking in Castiel’s taste, taking him deeper until he fills up his whole mouth and hits the back of his throat. And all Dean can feel and taste is his angel, all he can hear are the whining groans escaping the throat above him, all he can feel are the nails sinking into his shoulders, fingers gripping in his hair and legs trembling around him. And Dean sucks on Cas greedily, and _fuck_ he tastes so good. He bobs his head up and down faster and faster, himself forgetting all about where they are, who they are, one hand still wrapped around the base of Castiel’s cock, the other one automatically sliding down and grabbing his own painfully hard and leaking erection.

Dean unconsciously starts stroking himself, licking and playing with his tongue around Castiel's length, feelings each of his popped veins and the texture of his skin, the incredibly soft head, the strong, hard shaft. The hunter opens his mouth and throat wide and takes Cas so deep his nose snuggles in the wild pubes, his own hand tightening around his dick at the invading sensation down his throat. As he moves up and down again Castiel’s moans become rhythmic, loud and desperate, fingers tightening into Dean’s hair, hips twitching at his efforts to remain steady. Dean is horny out of his mind, pumping himself quickly as his lips and tongue lose control around Cas, until a small scream and a salty liquid shoots down his throat and he swallows before even thinking about it, feeling Cas crumbling around him, his legs shaking, hands cramping on his shoulders. Dean sucks every last drop out of him, unable to stop, until finally he lets go of the softening cock and buries his face between Castiel’s legs, using both his hands to stroke himself tighter, and fuck it’s good, he’s already almost there, and a few seconds later he’s coming messily all over his own hands, the abundant cum quickly washed away by the running water.

 It takes Dean a while to come back to reality, the only sounds in the shower being the steady noise of the water dripping and their two heavy breathings. He realizes the water dropping on their skins is almost ice cold now. It’s a shivering Castiel he finds when he gets back on his floppy legs, and his first thought is that Cas’ face shouldn’t look this troubled after a great blowjob like this. But it’s quickly washed away when Cas grabs Dean's face and kisses him, silencing his mouth before he can ever make a sound, and the angel does not release him for several minutes.

 “So, uhm, I’m guessing that was good?” Dean murmurs when they finally pull apart.

 Cas just nods, and Dean turns around to turn off the shower, before pulling Cas out into the bathroom and handing him a towel. The angel looks strangely troubled again as they’re drying themselves off, and it’s only once they have put on clean underwear and got out of the bathroom that Cas speaks again.

 “You made me feel… powerful.”

 Dean turns around to find Cas looking at him, his eyes filled with something close to adoration and thankfulness. Not a lot of people have looked at Dean like that.

 “You made me feel powerful, and… well, good. Very good.” He smirks. “It’s the first time since the fall that I’ve… felt like that. Thank you, Dean.”

 Dean smiles, and grabs his shirt to bring the angel closer again, before kissing his temple.

 “You’re very welcome.”

 They lean a little bit more into each other and stay like that for a few seconds, just enjoying this new proximity, this new way of being together, finally having stepped over the last line, the one they swayed on for so many years. It feels so good to finally have crossed those few inches and to be able to touch each other, smell each other, lean on each other. And then Dean mumbles that they should go to bed, because there are still a few hours of darkness and they are both exhausted. And without even a question they both slide into Dean’s bed, leaving the second one completely untouched, like they should’ve done a long time ago.

 Cas grabs on to the hunter's body and rests his head on his chest, arms and legs wrapping around him, and Dean slides one arm around the angel’s shoulders and snuggles him closer, burying his nose in the fresh smelling hair, lips gently caressing his forehead. The heavy weight of Castiel’s body moulded against his own feels strangely good and comforting, and he can’t help but smile again. Their breathing slow down, coziness and sleep quickly catching on. Dean hasn’t been this comfortable, hasn’t felt this good in a long while. He’s on the verge on falling asleep when Castiel speak against, his voice stifled by Dean’s chest.

 “No one ever… ever told me they loved me before.”

 Dean doesn’t answer, the words seeming to come from very far, and he simply squeezes Cas a little tighter.

 “I… I hope you know that… that I love you too, Dean.”

 No answer again, but Cas feels the pressure of Dean’s arms making it almost difficult for him to breathe. He doesn’t really mind though.

 “I fell in love with you at the very moment I laid my hand on your soul in the pit. I had never seen a soul shine so bright despite how broken, teared up and… tortured, it was. And as I got to understand humanity better, it just showed me how… how even more extraordinary you are, Dean. And I… I love you even more, if that’s possible. Every day, I –”

 “Shut up and go to sleep, Cas” Dean interrupts, and his voice sounds strange.

 Cas smiles but obeys, and he nuzzles in Dean’s neck, squirming until they’re both perfectly fitting together. Dean doesn’t say anything more as they slowly drift to sleep, but Cas could’ve sworn he felt something humid on his forehead.


End file.
